


dark clouds

by eatramyeon



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Romance, One Shot, this is really old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatramyeon/pseuds/eatramyeon
Summary: Youngjae was at the grocery store when Yongguk gave him the dark clouds.





	dark clouds

Youngjae was at the grocery store when Yongguk gave him the dark clouds.

They were the emojis on the messenger. Youngjae was in the middle of choosing the cuts for the chicken when he received the text; swiftly read for he had been looking at his grocery list on his phone. Perplexed, but understanding, he finished his shopping and hurried with his grocery bags to Yongguk’s apartment.

Contrary to most people’s assumption on Yongguk’s character, Yongguk loves emojis. When he’s happy he would insert an emoji of a happy puppy in his texts. Or sometimes cats. He likes the flowers too and sunflowers make him smile at the screen; Youngjae knows that. And he knows what Yongguk sent him means too.

The door to Yongguk’s apartment is familiar, quiet and solemn. Like the dark clouds.

He keys in the passcode. It’s etched there in his mind, like his own phone number, his mother’s phone number, something encoded into his long term memory a long time ago when he first visited.

“Yongguk-hyung, I’m here.” He says as he steps in, the door ringing mechanically behind him as it locks itself.

The whole place is dark and silent. As expected, but Yongguk’s not there to welcome him.

A soft ringing bell sounds across the living room instead and Youngjae beams. A happy dog runs towards him in series of small steps.

“Tigger!” He calls, quickly getting rid of his shoes with difficulties as the dog starts circling him excitedly, wagging his tail and barking; friendly.

He rushes into the kitchen, and it’s empty, he realizes as he puts his bags onto the kitchen counter and finally to his own content he gets to scoop Tigger up into his arms affectionately.

“How’s the cutie Tigger?” He coos, the dog sniffing his nose happily. “Where’s your Appa? Let me see your Appa.”

At the mention of the word, the dog barks and squirms around to be let go. So Youngjae places him onto the floor and Tigger leads him to the small, square dining table. At first Youngjae’s confused but when he notices why he almost died of a heart attack.

“I’m here.” Yongguk says under the table.

“God, Yongguk-hyung! What are you doing there?” he gasps, a hand to his chest and quickly he gets on to his knees and crawls to the table, where Yongguk is curled up and hiding. “Why are you under the table? Wait—” He glances around him. “—should I be hiding under the table too?”

Yongguk is in all blacks, his long sleeves pulled down to his fingers and arms around his legs. His messy curly hair rest atop his knees, face hidden.

“I fucked up.” Came a little weak, muffled groan.

“What?”

When Yongguk lifts his head there are dark clouds on his eyes that Youngjae notices straightaway.

“I was supposed to copy all the demos into one file but the computer freezes and I got annoyed and I don’t know what happened but all the demos are gone and we might have just lost our new album.” Yongguk blurts in his slow, deeper than the ocean voice.

“Oh, no,” Youngjae blinks, concerned as he crawls closer, worried of the scared look Yongguk’s giving him.

“They’re all gone, Youngjae they’re all  _gone_.”

“Okay, okay,” The younger frantically searches for all possible solutions in his head, the solutions being the ones to calm the older curled up and hiding under the table. “Calm down.”

He assesses the place, it’s dark and quiet except for Tigger’s small bell ringing as he runs around them under the table and chairs.

Youngjae looks at Yongguk in the eyes and he knows Yongguk is searching for comfort there. It’s what Youngjae knows he should offer and maybe Yongguk knows Youngjae could.

“Well, first of all you did the right thing by hiding under this table,” Youngjae smiles in what he hopes an assuring fashion and Yongguk blinks at him with a sad frown. “And second of all,” he pauses and chuckles at the absurdity of it, “You called the right person, genius Youngjae is here.”

Yongguk manages a really small smile at that, yet he’s still all folded up under the table with dark clouds on his eyes.

“We’ll take care of it.” He finally smiles genuinely, knowing that at least Yongguk can manage a small one for him at this time of crisis. He reaches out a hand to Yongguk. “Let’s get you out of here first, come on.”

Yongguk moves slowly and heavily, but his attempt to even move is clouded by the shadows of the table he’s hiding under. “I don’t think I can,” He says, looking up at Youngjae with a very defeated sad face as Youngjae stands up and almost hit the back of his head against the table.

“What, why?”

“I feel so weak I can’t move.” Yongguk frowns and lowers his head. Youngjae can just picture the dark clouds forming above his head, and it’s ready to rain.

“Are you… okay?” He squats and he’s not sure if he could even touch the older. Sometimes he feels like if he did Yongguk would break.

Because Yongguk’s so thin, even when he laughs Youngjae worries he might shatter his ribs and from experience, picking up the pieces of Yongguk is a difficult job. _Difficult_ , but, always something worth going through. All the time, and no exceptions to Youngjae.

“Did you eat anything at all today?”

Yongguk shakes his head solemnly. It’s a serious problem when Yongguk doesn’t eat. First, he can’t cook to save his life, but if he doesn’t even eat ramen then that’s something. Youngjae’s stomach twists with the knowledge, worried but determined to pull him out of the shadows.

“What about last night?”

Yongguk shakes his head again and Youngjae grows even more worried.

“Did you even sleep?”

“No,” Yongguk answers, not even looking at him. Yongguk lifts his head and when he looks into Youngjae’s eyes he shakes his head almost painfully. “Youngjae,” he sighs. “I just don’t have the energy for anything right now.” Even his voice breaks when he says it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll fix you something,” Youngjae quickly says, turning around. “For now get on,”

He looks over his shoulder and Yongguk’s staring at him rather bewilderedly with round eyes. Yongguk chuckles weakly over the ridiculousness and Youngjae laughs a little too. But Yongguk still wraps his arms around Youngjae and gets onto his back.

Yongguk’s light because he’s thin. Youngjae doesn’t know how much weight he’s lost over the years but instead remembers Yongguk telling him to eat more years ago when pretty much everyone else urged him to lose fat.

Yongguk’s light because he eats instant noodles for almost all meals and even the raw ones for snacks. When he wants something sweet he chews on jellies and Youngjae likes asking Yongguk to share them backstage while they’re waiting to go on stage.

Yongguk has long fingers reaching for the jelly one by one in the bag and he likes to eat them in order of colors. Youngjae knows because Yongguk lays them all out on his palm and told Youngjae they have a color sequence.

Youngjae doesn’t remember the sequence because all he remembers is the gummy smile carved across Yongguk’s cheeks and the way his eyes crinkled and disappeared in the messy dark cloud that was his hair.

Yongguk’s not warm against his back, which is odd. When Yongguk holds Youngjae in those rare times he finds Youngjae in his own hide-under-the-table moments, he’s always warm and sturdy. But not this powerless, dominated by the dark clouds Yongguk. He’s frail and he’s hollow on Youngjae’s back.

“Am I heavy?” Yongguk whispers as Youngjae hoists him up, hands tucked under Yongguk’s knees.

Youngjae thinks for a moment, standing straight and Tigger’s barking at them for some reason. Is he telling Youngjae to let go of Yongguk?

“No,” Youngjae mutters almost nonchalantly. “And I’m not even lying.”

He walks to the room where Yongguk had designed to be a makeshift studio. The door is slightly ajar and he pushes it open with one foot, Yongguk reaching for the light switch. Yongguk presses on it but it doesn’t budge and he sighs, hand sliding down the wall so Youngjae presses on it instead, and the light instantly illuminates the creatively messy room. Tigger waits by the door because he’s trained not to go into the studio.

There are papers everywhere and Yongguk’s computer is still turned on, the wallpaper a picture of Tigger staring at the camera.

Youngjae sets Yongguk down in the middle where there are no papers because obviously that’s where Yongguk sits.

“I panicked and took out all my lyrics and music sheets. I—I thought maybe if I work fast enough I can redo the demos but the deadline’s soon,” Yongguk says in a low voice, squatting on the floor and moving the papers around. He clutches at his own head as he groans weakly. “It’s no use, I deleted the demos. The completed demos. All of them. What am I gonna do?”

“Hey, it’s fine, let me see.” Youngjae side steps the papers and gets to the computer. He sits on the chair and starts clicking on folders. He knows where Yongguk stores them and true to Yongguk’s words, not even the folder is there. They’re all gone. Not even in the recycle bin.

Now, Youngjae has never done this kind of thing before, so he googles for a solution. Yongguk watches from the floor as Youngjae starts following step by step on the internet on how to recover lost files.

One method didn’t work. So Youngjae moves on to another.

Yongguk’s silent, Youngjae’s hopeful and typing on the browser with agile fingers.

Second method didn’t work either. Youngjae searches for another.

Third method doesn’t seem possible at all and Youngjae curses under his breath.

“Youngjae, am I gonna get fired?” Asks Yongguk in a low voice and Youngjae looks at him through his shoulder.

“Calm down, you won’t. You’re like an idol star and idol stars don’t just get fired. Look, we’ll find a way around this.”

“It’s impossible,” Yongguk mutters under his breath as he lowers his head and starts running his fingers on his many lyrics. His many sad, _sad_ lyrics that Youngjae likes to read when Yongguk’s not looking or sleeping.

And the younger hears his words just not but doesn’t comment on it.

Clearly Youngjae finds no immediate solution, he’s gone through multiple forums and websites, yet there’s no correct solution.

“Maybe we just need to rethink this for a while, yeah? Try to clear our heads first,” Youngjae suggests and walks away from the computer. Now he’s really worried.

What are they going to sing for their next album? Does that mean they’re going to delay the next comeback or are they going to just use some old recorded songs? Just release a single with one title track and its instrumental? No, Yongguk doesn’t like that which is why Yongguk was under the table in the first place.

When Youngjae looks at Yongguk on the floor he knows the dread must be even more massive in Yongguk.

“Do you want some ramen? I can cook them for you.” Youngjae says, getting to the same level as Yongguk, remembering that Yongguk practically hasn’t eaten anything at all since yesterday.

The older lifts his head and blinks at him. He shakes his head. His long, permed hair really covers up his eyes Youngjae wants to brush them away just to see him clearly. But they’re like curtains and Youngjae knows Yongguk likes his curtains drawn closed like how the curtains are always drawn in his apartment.

“Why not?”

“You make very bad ramen.” Yongguk doesn’t look at him in the eyes and he sounds almost meek. “I told you you put too much water before.”

Youngjae feels a lightning from the dark cloud above Yongguk’s head hitting him. But then he remembers the grocery he had brought in earlier. He was planning to cook himself dinner for the night and it doesn’t hurt to cook for Yongguk, he finds. Besides, he’s learned cooking before and Yongguk, seeing the photos he shared, asked if Youngjae would cook for him one day. Youngjae had laughed and said no, he doesn’t cook just for _anyone_.

“Fine, I’ll cook you something else.” He turns around and offers his back again.

This time Yongguk doesn’t hesitate and wraps his arms around Youngjae again. The younger carries him out of the studio.

He walks to the kitchen counter and pulls out the stool to let Yongguk sit. The older lets go of him with a very quiet ‘thanks’ and Youngjae coos at Tigger who’s jumping at his feet, begging to be picked up. He picks up the dog and cradles him.

“You gotta take better care of Yongguk-hyung, Tigger,” Youngjae says to the dog, scratching at his ears. Tigger merely sticks out a tongue and looks back and forth between them two.

He hands Tigger to Yongguk who takes the dog onto his lap and starts cuddling him. Youngjae knows Yongguk needs it.

Yongguk then eyes the grocery bags and watches confusedly as Youngjae starts taking things out one by one.

Noticing the silent question hanging in the air Youngjae says, “I was out grocery shopping when you texted me.” He chuckles. “I was also planning to cook dinner. I guess now you have the privilege to taste my cooking.”

Yongguk smiles slightly as they look at one another. Youngjae starts taking out the utensils he needs, knowing fully well where everything is placed. Mostly, they aren’t used much, but Youngjae knows they’re there because Yongguk’s sister comes at times and cooks Yongguk meals.

Sometimes there are packed side dishes neatly placed in the fridge for reheating that can last Yongguk a few days. Youngjae tasted her cooking once and almost cried at how good everything was.

“Do you want me to help?” Came a small question and Youngjae sets down the cutting board.

“It’s fine, you can’t even turn on the lights,” He says teasingly and Yongguk smiles guiltily at him.

He starts chopping up onions and lets the rice cook while he’s doing that. Yongguk plays with Tigger quietly, a small squeal sounding in the kitchen once in a while followed with barks and Yongguk’s muttering ‘bang bang’ at the dog now lying on the floor pretending to be dead.

Youngjae checks on the recipe his mom has sent him before. Measuring ingredients and mixing them together. Cooking has always been strangely cathartic for Youngjae, almost surprisingly too, and he finds himself lost in doing his task in silence.

“What will the others say?” Yongguk suddenly asks.

He almost stops what he’s doing. But he resumes without much thoughts.

“I don’t know.” Youngjae answers honestly.

“I should lose my job.”

“That’s gonna disappoint a million people do you know that?”

“It’s my fault.”

“Hey, tell you what, why not we just run away after we finish eating? That way they will never know the demos were deleted.”

“Where are we going to go?”

“Where’d you like to go?”

“Ibiza.” This time Yongguk is chuckling.

“I can see us going there.”

“Should we get a new job then?”

“I can’t go pro on gaming, they’ll find me and track me down.”

“I can be a cop.”

Youngjae laughs at that sudden random statement. “Maybe to keep a low profile I’ll just go around selling illegal drugs.”

“We can be street musicians instead.”

“Oh, busking in Ibiza, I like that. We can grow our beards so people won’t recognize us. Maybe start a new band—but with beards.”

Yongguk giggles at the counter, and delighted, Youngjae cranes his neck to look at that wide smile stretched across Yongguk’s face. Youngjae grins at him in return.

Sometimes he wonders what’s cathartic for Yongguk. What makes him smile the easiest. Somehow he feels like he can put a finger on it, but he can’t quite pinpoint what it is.

He stir fries the chicken swiftly. It’s a simple recipe after all, and he’s made enough for two.

They eat in silence after, Tigger walking back and forth between the two sitting at the counter, wagging his tail.

Youngjae keeps in mind how many spoonful of rice Yongguk feeds himself, and feels relieved when Yongguk finishes the bowl of rice.

“Do you feel better now?” Youngjae asks, leaning across the counter and checking on Yongguk who’s stacking the empty bowls.

Yongguk nods silently, his movements slow.

“See, you need to get food in your system. Eating is a requirement to live, hyung, you shouldn’t forget that.” Youngjae smiles slightly, it feels like he’s talking to a child sometimes, despite their years of difference in age.

And he knows Yongguk feels that way when he’s the one consoling Youngjae in his own dark times too. Yongguk said it once— _you feel like a child_ — with his arms wrapped around the younger, Youngjae’s head tucked under his head with soothing mellow songs playing in the background because Yongguk finds them soothing and wants them to do the same for Youngjae.

“ _And,_ sleeping too,” Youngjae says pointedly, chuckling when Yongguk starts smiling.

“Yeah, like you’re not one to stay up playing video games,” Yongguk mumbles –which Youngjae heard clearly— slowly getting up with the bowls in his hands.

He washes the dishes in the sink after rolling up his sleeves carefully. Youngjae stands by his side, watching the way Yongguk’s unrushed hands squeezing the sponge with soap, brushing it against the bowls under the water.

He takes the wet utensils and starts drying them in silence.

“Thank you for the meal, Youngjae. It was delicious,” Yongguk mutters as he wipes his hands on the kitchen towel.

Youngjae shrugs, perhaps cooking feels better when there’s someone to feed, he finds.

Yongguk sighs then, leaning against the counter, looking down at his toes. The trouble that has been looming, hidden for a brief moment there when they had their meal returns like an uninvited guest in the apartment. The kitchen is dim all of a sudden just when he lowers his head. Tigger scurries to his feet, wagging his tail.

“What am I gonna do?”

“What are we gonna do?” Youngjae shrugs again.

The older seems tired, shoulders hunched and fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt.

“Why don’t you go to sleep?” Youngjae reaches for Yongguk’s thin arm, squeezing comfortingly. He can almost feel Yongguk unwind from the mere touch. “Not sleeping’s not gonna do anything about it, you know.”

Yongguk nods.

They went to the bedroom, and Yongguk sits on his bed. The room is dark, of course and Youngjae urges him to lie down.

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Yongguk says, swallowing a lump in his throat and through the small light that sneaks its way through the gap in the curtains Youngjae can almost see Yongguk’s eyes glistening in the dark.

“Try,” Youngjae says.

“Are you going to leave?” Yongguk asks, pulling the covers on himself.

Youngjae sits on his bed. “I’m staying?” It turns into a question instead.

“Are you going to sleep?”

Youngjae laughs and Yongguk smiles at him, it’s automatic.

“No, I slept in this morning and I didn’t stay up for days like you.”

“Okay.”

“Can I use your computer to play video games?”

“Sure.”

Yongguk turns away on the bed, closing his eyes. Youngjae watches him for a second, blinking, before pulling the covers further up on the older and covering him completely.

Yongguk’s breathing is soft when he walks out with Tigger who is silent seeing that Yongguk has his eyes closed.

The door is closed as quietly as possible and Youngjae went to the studio where he tiptoes around the scattered music sheets and lyrics.

Youngjae would have picked them all up and put them somewhere nice, but the mess is Yongguk’s arrangement on its own. He knows how confused Yongguk could get when his things are moved without him knowing. His mess, in other words, are just actually how he places things.

Youngjae starts up the game that has been installed in Yongguk’s computer a long time ago. With a request for Youngjae to teach the older how to play, so they could play together. But Youngjae finds Yongguk too slow for a quick thinking game that he plays often, finds Yongguk thinking too much on things and that’s fine but it costs him and his teammates their lives.

He almost yelled at Yongguk one time and decided against it just because it’s Bang Yongguk, and because when he gets bitter about video games it’s Yongguk he runs to just to keep his mind off the mistakes he did in his games.

His team is online already, as expected, waiting for their team leader to start.

Gaming’s fun, as usual. They won many rounds and as they typed _you better be online tomorrow night_ for another round on the chatting box, Youngjae finds the clock striking 4am.

It’s no wonder his eyes feel heavy already, and for a second there he thinks he’d be sporting the same dark clouds like Yongguk’s.

Matching dark clouds, he thinks, as he clicks on the mouse, finally remembering how Yongguk practically deleted their new album.

Video games really did take his minds off a lot of things.

He decided to try again, find a solution, hopefully when Yongguk wakes up he can surprise him with a _tadah our new album is back and we better start recording now_.

Youngjae stops.

He’s been looking through the folders and he stares at the screen, at the folder in many folders that wasn’t even renamed, merely retaining its original name.

New Folder.

He takes off the headphones that smells like Yongguk’s hair and sets it down slowly.

Tigger is sleeping on his small bed in the living room when he walks out. The door to Yongguk’s bedroom is still closed.

But there’s a faint sound of mellow song playing in the room and Youngjae doesn’t knock.

He pushes the door open and finds Yongguk on his bed with his eyes opened.

“You didn’t sleep,” Youngjae sighs, frowning as he walks to the bed.

“I told you I couldn’t.”

He sits on the bed and when Yongguk catches his eyes Yongguk frowns too, and he blinks, wondering if Youngjae knows.

“Hyung—you—” Youngjae shakes his head and sighs again. “ _Why_?”

Yongguk swallows a lump in his throat and sits up, scratching at his head, his messy hair covering his face again as looks down at the sheets.

“I told you I messed up.”

“No,” Youngjae retorted and he doesn’t know if he wants to be angry, or concerned or both or just dismiss everything. “I found them.”

Yongguk lifts his head as if he didn’t expect Youngjae to, but a part of Youngjae knows he has expected it.

“I found the demos.”

Maybe Yongguk wants him to find it.

“It was never deleted.” Youngjae stares at him earnestly, and when he leans closer to get a better look of those guilty defeated eyes, Yongguk withdraws within himself again and it’s black messy hair on top of black clad knees and arms again.

Youngjae feels his heart twisting a little. At the same time it burns. What was the concern he had under the table before then?

“I’m sorry,” Yongguk whispers inside himself.

“Did you want me to find it?” Youngjae asks in a low voice, finds his own hand reaching for the back of Yongguk’s.

Yongguk’s fingers find his and hold his hand.

Youngjae lets him.

“Not eating, not sleeping,” Youngjae mutters, Yongguk’s hand cold. “is this just another way of sabotaging yourself?”

Yongguk shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me why,” Youngjae decides to say firmly. He can’t be soft for Yongguk now. If he’s soft and Yongguk’s soft then how on earth are they supposed to stay standing on a spinning earth clouded by storms?

Yongguk finally lifts his head, and his eyes are glistening again, hand in his hair, hand in Youngjae’s hand.

“They’re not good enough?” Yongguk offers.

Youngjae wants to crumble, wants to tell him that it’s impossible, even if it is there are still ways around it, ways of improving, fixing, repairing.

“Yet you put it there for me to find,” Youngjae whispers.

Yongguk shrugs, and it’s like when Youngjae writes his own songs one day and Yongguk found him in the middle of debating on tearing the papers apart and just throwing his notebook into the trash can.

“You know that if you told me you were doubtful about your songs then I wouldn’t stay until 4 fucking am,” Youngjae says, lowering his head and finally resting his forehead their intertwined hands on the older’s knees. “You _thought_ I wouldn’t stay.”

He doesn’t know if he hates the fact that he knows exactly what Yongguk thinks and what Yongguk wants, or if he’s relieved because otherwise Yongguk would never tell.

Telepathy is an impossible thing, and reading hearts are certainly difficult.

“They’re never not good enough.” He mutters under a frustrated breath, and perhaps Yongguk finds it turning into a rehearsed line. Hence the hidden folder with all the demos that he said he deleted.

Perhaps the words are always the same to reassure the older, but Youngjae has never not meant them, but it proves to be difficult to convince him of that.

“Are you tired of my same words?” Youngjae asks instead. “Is that it?”

“No,” Yongguk finally answers almost firmly. “Not at all.”

“Is it because you think I get tired of my own same words?”

He feels Yongguk nodding.

Youngjae chuckles at the absurdity of it. “No way.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Yongguk starts chanting almost so painfully that Youngjae lifts his head and pulls the older into his arms almost urgently, shushing him.

Yongguk fits in his arms, his head under Youngjae’s chin. He knows Yongguk gets scared. Yongguk gets scared of things easily.

And Youngjae gets angry at things easily.

“ _God_ , I’m so—I’m _mad_ at you.” Youngjae hisses like it physically hurts, rocking on the bed with Yongguk heaving in his hold. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this ever again.”

“I’m sorry.” Yongguk’s apology is muffled, his limp arms, his limp body all gathered and held together by the younger.

“You do it like I don’t get held up together by you too,” Youngjae murmurs. “You do it like you don’t pull people out of the dark too.”

He lets go to look at Yongguk in the eyes.

And it’s Yongguk who reaches with his cold thumbs to wipe the tears away on Youngjae’s cheeks.

Youngjae’s lips tremble and he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t look at Yongguk’s concerned eyes, his frowning full lips and the dark clouds.

He can’t see past the raining dark clouds of his own.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s Youngjae who apologizes. Because he wasn’t supposed to cry, if anyone should be crying he was hoping it was Yongguk, but it’s him.

What kind of betrayal is this, from his tears to him?

And his shoulders shake, because he knows how hard it is. Pain and doubts are abstract little things, that don’t go away with a tearing of a paper and the crumpling of it into the trash can. They don’t go away like that and they both know.

“This is so stupid,” Youngjae whines, his voice strained and cheeks heated with the tears. He wipes his tears away angrily, and Yongguk immediately pulls him into an embrace.

He sobs.

Yongguk laughs like the rain of tears, concernedly, and shushes him with pats on his back.

“Why are we like this?”

The older’s body shakes and rumbles with his chuckle. “I honestly don’t know.”

But what Youngjae knows that he wants to take this in. Take this comfort in because it comforts Yongguk to comfort other people too. It’s a strange sentiment, but comfort has always been a strange thing for the two of them yet so familiar in each other’s arms.

When Youngjae’s tears calm down he pushes Yongguk back gently to wipe the last of them away with his sleeves and Yongguk smiles at him softly.

“Thank you, Youngjae,” He says.

Youngjae glares at him because he’s not supposed to cry at 4 am but it’s a completely different world at 4 in the morning.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.” Yongguk continues and there are still dark clouds on his eyes.

Youngjae shakes his head, they’re both in their dark clouds headspace it seems. “I’m glad you called me here.”

“Your cooking was really good too.”

The younger laughs, and when the laughter subsides he finds himself lying on the wrong side of the bed. His eyes feel heavy after the tears, after the storm.

A brief silence descends over them, almost awkward but still warm.

“Time to sleep.” He decides to say, pulling the cover on himself.

Yongguk follows suit, the low music playing serves as a lullaby as they close their eyes.

The only thing that can bring sunshine after the dark clouds, perhaps, is the morning after all, Youngjae thinks.

And Youngjae knows, Yongguk likes his sunflower emoji like the sunshine in the morning. Over text that Youngjae gets walking back home after brunch.

A thanks. Even after the spoken words early in the morning where Yongguk’s face was hued blue from the old, night sky outside, and there were crinkles at the side of his eyes.

The dark clouds are worth it for Youngjae, only if it means a brighter morning after, and a stronger person who will hold him up in his storms too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Henlo, this is the last of my clearing up of my b.a.p fanfic folders because i have so many of them not posted ajsdajsd this fic is actually so old just like i am now so it is wayyy overdue and yongguk even left ts by the time i post this lmao i cry
> 
> idk if ppl even read author's notes but I think I'm done here??? b.a.p has always been such great inspirations for writing, and I have written so many aus just for b.a.p so yea, please leave a feedback or a tiny comment for this smol fic that's probably the last one I'll be posting! (because when i look at it, my other fics seem, unfit for posting lmao theyre that bad asjhdjsd)
> 
> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/zellestial) and [tumblr!](http://zellestial.tumblr.com/)


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